The Second Coming : Kaylrielsia
by GenevieveRed
Summary: Captured and broken, Kaylrielsia finds herself in the horde controlled Undercity. She's out for vengeance for what they've done to her, but first things first: Escape. Then she can begin to worry how she's going to make the Banshee Queen beg for mercy underneath her boot. Her mind is set on the kill, but life just loves throwing in new twists to get her off track. BelfxNelfxTroll
1. Give A Little More

**I have no idea where this story is truly heading, but I will love it every step of the way.**

**Give A Little More**

She was thrust towards the floor, cheek colliding with hard, wet stone. If possible, her brow furrowed further. With a harsh yank, she was pulled back by her long silver hair into a kneeling position in front of the Banshee Queen herself. It took all of her self-control to not spit on the she witch again, because granted, having your face running into an unmoving object stopped being enjoyable after the sixth time around. Slowly, glowing silver eyes rose to stare blankly into heated red.

"You're just a stubborn one, aren't you night elf?"

"Why yes, yes I am _my laadddyyy_" I retorted back with an over exaggerated eye roll. She frowned down at me, and then clucked her tongue in distaste. I might as well be the scum under her boot from the Plaguelands for all she cared. Correction, I was. A small smile found its way on my cracked lips, but I quickly pursed it away.

"This isn't hard hunter, and trust me, we can keep this up for as long as it takes for you to starve and die from dehydration, and I would love to see that happen," she smiled cruelly at me from across the room, "but, I've got more important matters to deal with than to stand here and watch your body slowly wither away." Slowly, she stalked over to my bent position.

"Now tell me where they are, all of them. Tell me where those damn soldiers are and I might just spare you and turn you into one of mine."

"If that's what you consider bribery, you witch, you might want to reevaluate your playing cards," I shot back at her with a cool voice, emotion completely void. My head raised then to look at her expression, which was something that made my insides freeze.

"You'll die here for your ignorance, with or without your cooperation."

With that, she shadowed out of the room, barking orders for me to be put into one the lower chambers to be 'interrogated'. _Interrogated my ass, more like tortured in the deepest circle of hell. Elune, watch over my soul and grant me passage into the next life._ Insert grimace here.

Quickly, I was hefted from my position and dragged to another door and out of the room. The persistent throbbing from my left leg screamed at me to get my weight off of it, but my mind screamed to just ignore it for now and for Elunes sake, don't look at it unless I'd fancy vomiting all over myself at its gnarled appearance.

The Deathgaurds continued to drag me through winding passages that by the look of them weren't used too often, if the immense amount of spider webs and cockroaches gave any indication. That or they like their passageways disgusting and full of grim, mold and wildlife, and in that case, how considerate of them. Not only do you get beaten the crap out of in here, you get to be pulled through shit that hasn't see the light of day in centuries; such a welcoming, warm feel, don't you think?

When we got to the stairs, my body tensed and all that could run through my head was _Oh HELL NO, HELL NOOOOO_. But these damn Deathguards barely noticed my struggle to stay away from them. To say the trip down them was less than enjoyable would be one of the biggest understatements of my entire twenty six years of life. If I thought the hallway we had just come out of was bad, than I hadn't seen anything.

These stairs, if you could even call them that, were in the simplest form: ridiculous. First off, they weren't really stairs, more like ramps, creaky, unstable, and horrible. Being dragged over them is something I hope the Spirits, Elune or the Light never let happen to me again. Not even two pulls on that thing and I can feel dozens of splinters sinking into my skin, and to add to that, half way into the middle of it, a nail decided to pop up and make its appearance by inserting itself into my leg and not leaving until it had been from my upper thigh down to my shin. How delightful. Maybe this is one of their forms of pre-torture, because hell, it was working. She now hated this place more than she thought possible.

Next came the actual stairs, which I began to mentally flick off. I squeezed my eyes shut as we started to descend down them. My head lolled back in a moment of relief, only to notice something that had escaped my attention this whole forsaken trip. No pun intended. Trailing behind us was a herd of horde forsaken, watching me with glee in their creepy golden eyes as I was pulled down further into the darkness of their city. It was then that my stomach twisted into even more unpleasant knots. Hopefully I'd be kept far from the likes of them.

After the second stair case, the second ramp came, and that one was worse by far than the first one. I was sure that both legs were starting to resemble ground meat by now. Delicious.

When we finally returned to the hard, wet stone, I became grateful. The chilliness of the floor actually made my torn legs feel better, numbing them ever so slightly, making me let out a sigh of relief.

I started to wonder when this grand tour would come to end, but I didn't have to wait long until the Deathguards approached a seemingly solid wall. They pushed in a sequence of rocks in the wall, and just like something out of a book, the wall quivered slightly before opening up to a secret passageway. _Joy, more dark, dank tunnels_.

We continued down them for a bit, then, that's when I heard them. Screams. Shrill screams of the tortured. The fine hairs all over my body stood on end and my mind screamed to get out of there and run, gnarled leg or not, I had to LEAVE. I started to tug my arms in attempt to get the Deathguards to release, but this didn't even faze them, much to my chagrin, it actually made them speed up and grasp my upper arms even tighter. A small whimper escaped my throat before I could pull it back, and I prayed neither of them heard it.

A green yellow light appeared around a corner, and even more to my chagrin, that's exactly where we were headed. It didn't help my knotted stomach that that was where the screams were emanating from. Not wanting to be witness of the horrors happening in the room, I squeezed my eyes closed and willed my ears to close up. I didn't even think to prepare myself for the smell, and how foolish was I. Not even a few feet in the room and vomit sprung up out of my throat. I've always had a weak stomach for things like this; it was why I prided myself on making clean shots with minimal gore.

I felt my vomit stream from my mouth and down the front of my ragged linen shirt. The two Deathguards said something in gutterspeak to each other and then laughed down at me. I couldn't even manage to come up with a silent retort for them, my mind was spinning and I was sure I was about to faint like the big sissy I was in front of them and whoever or whatever was in this room with us.

Relief flooded me when we left the room and entered an empty room to the left of the one I had just vomited in. The Deathguards released my arms only so they could be put in shackles and raised above my head. They left the room after each gave a sharp kick to my ribs, and as I heard the door click shut, I began to survey my surroundings.

I now thought it was odd how they didn't bother blind folding my while the dragged me through what looked like was the center of their city. Were they really so cocky they thought I'd never get out of here? Maybe I wouldn't, but they didn't have to rub it in my beaten face. Seriously, let a girl have dreams.

It was hours or so before anyone entered the room, and just by looking at them, dread filled me. I cringed when they dropped to a knee and grasped my chin in their bony, undead hand. He turned my face this way and that before grinning, if you can even call it that, and dropping my face. Slowly he stood and walked to the door, and with his back facing me, locked the door with a click. I narrowed my eyes.

_Let the games begin then._

* * *

I don't remember how long I had been in this room.

I don't remember how many times that undead priest came in here and defiled my body with his torture sessions.

I can't remember how many times I've passed out from blood loss only to be woken up by the priest so I can watch my bones be snapped back in place.

I can't remember how many times I've cursed his name, if he even had one.

I can remember though, how every time I wake up he's in my room watching me blankly, and muttering to himself.

This stupid priest had been working for Elune knows how long in trying to get me to spill the whereabouts of my battalion. His mind controlling or mind reading shit tricks weren't working. It helped being trained beforehand to resist this type of thing. I made sure to remind him each and every time his attempts to infiltrate my mind failed, and with an innocent grin i might add.

I know though that they have been doing experiments on me while I'm knocked out. I refuse though to survey the damage and seen how un-savable I've become. My only concern now was keeping my secrets to myself and spiting everyone who dared enter this rotten room.

There were a couple of things that I was truly certain of. A rescue team wasn't coming, and it wasn't that I didn't believe they were looking, but more of the fact they wouldn't know where to even bloody look. I was captured by the Banshee Queen herself who seemingly appeared out of thin air in the middle of a battle with the scourge in Northrend. It was completely random and infuriatingly stupid. Another thing I knew for certain was that Sylvannas would keep true to her word and have me rot down here with or without any information being given. The last fact I knew was that my body was broken, and in more ways than one. While my body was, for appearances sake, intact, most of my bones had been broken so many times, I swear I could sometimes feel them weeping under my skin. Hell, I wanted to cry with them too, and I did on multiple occasions.

I still wouldn't let myself look at the changes in my body, because honestly, that would just add more stress to this whole situation, and I didn't need that.

Slowly the only door leading to my room opened and in stepped the priest. I sighed. It was healing time. He did this roughly around thirty minutes before the torture session would take place. He walked over silently and began his process. I looked at him out of the corner of my eyes with dull interest. That was until I spotted it. Either the priest was being naive or he just made the worst mistake of his retched life. Strapped onto his belt was a small dagger, practically begging me to snatch it and slit the priests throat with or, better yet, slice his head clean off. Screw my weak stomach. I was in this for revenge now, and blood was going to spill regardless. My chapped lips screwed themselves into a malicious grin.

I shifted my upper body slightly so I was facing him a bit more, and with a slight nudge of my shoulder, the priest became unbalanced, and in an attempt to right himself, he raised himself off the ground. Insult on his rotting lips, he failed to notice how he perfectly placed his dagger right next to my hand. All it took was a quick pull and thrust and the priest was on his knees to her right holding his punctured abdomen.

Head slowly turning to him, a grin spread as I watched him start to heal his wound. A soft, malicious laughter I wasn't even aware I could make filtered out of my mouth, making him freeze.

"Burn in the depths of hell, Priest. Burn with your Queen and the rest of your kind," I spoke to him, voice icy and unforgiving. With a practiced move of the wrist, his head fell to the ground with a dull thud. Horror stricken expression forever etched onto his face.


	2. Hands All Over

**Hands All Over**

Ever since she could remember, she had a bow firmly set in her hands. While her mother would scold her constantly about how un-lady like she was, her father always encouraged her towards the path of a huntress. Always smiling down at her when she hit the mark and always there to inspire her to try again if she missed. When Kaylrielsia tamed her first pet, her mother looked on at a distance with disdain written on her face while her father bent down and scratched the runty striped panther behind the ears and patted her on the head. It had been her father to shape her from the get-go. He had been her everything, her role model, her idol. He himself was a hunter, as well as the rest of the family on his side, so to say she came from a long line of hunters would be an understatement. Her father, to most people in their village, was called Tyndaniir, but to her, he was her Papa Tyn, or just Papi. His hair had been short and light blue while his skin was a magnificent shade of deep blue. In his short hair, she had noticed he had these small, intricate glass beads woven in, and when asked about it, he would laugh and tell her they were a gift from a friend. She never questioned him further, but she always had this temptation to play with them. His skin had been one of her favorite parts of him though; it contained so many stories from acquired battle scars and had this warm, leathery feel from years of being at the mercy of nature. Most nights he would tell her a story about a particular scar to make her fall asleep, and those were her fondest memories of him.

Sailyeen, her mother, was a different story. The woman was regal in every sense, from perfectly pointed nose to her dainty clean feet. Kayl was always told her appearance came strictly from her mother, seeing that instead of her father's light blue hair, she had snowy white starlight hair like her mother. Sailyeens' hair had always been in some intricate bun on the very top of her head and she wore nothing but the finest silk dresses, while Kayl insisted on keeping it down and short, just like her Papi's. Kayl also inherited her mothers fair purple skin and face. The only thing she didn't get from her mother was her personality, no, that came from her father.

He had been so care free and quick to joke around, it had always been easy for him to make a new friend or two. Sometimes Kayl would wonder how her parents even got together; they were so opposite in every sense. Her father so loving, but her mother so cold and calculating. It wasn't uncommon for arranged marriages, but upon asking, her father told her that they married for love. She had been confused about this at first until one night she snuck out of bed and tip toed to the kitchen to get a midnight snack. To her surprise, her parents were in there and talking in hushed voices. After standing behind the door frame and trying to eavesdrop for a few minutes, she became bored and decided to go to bed, but that's when she saw it. Her father pulled her mother in a protective embrace and then leaned down and kissed her. When they pulled back, they stared into each other's eyes with such a warmth, little kayl could feel it from ten feet away. She knew from then on that was what love looked like and would no longer question her parents about it.

She had been so naïve as a child. It never occurred to her that maybe one day her Papa wouldn't come home, or that her life would change. She hadn't been home when the news was delivered. No, she had been in the forest out behind their house play hunting with her loyal companion. Upon arriving home, she had walked into the kitchen to get a snack when she noticed her mother's shaking form braced against the wall. Kayl never had been close to her mother, but the need to comfort her had never been so strong. Slowly, small light purple hands reached out to touch the olders womans shaking shoulder, only to be slapped away.

In that time in her life, she had only been ten years of age, and to look back on it would only bring grief and pain. Sailyeen plummeted into depression and completely ignored her daughter. It was now that Kayl wondered where all of her other relatives were, where her supposed loving aunts and uncles who religiously sent cards and gifts had gone to. They never came to help consol. They never came to take care of her when her mother would not. With no one to turn to, not even the neighbors, she turned to the forest. Her play hunting turned serious and she hunted for food for herself, her cat and her mother. It became routine: Kayl would hunt, bring home the game and Sailyeen would wordlessly dress it and prepare it to be eaten. That was as far as their mother daughter bond went. When Kayl turned fourteen, Sailyeen decided to leave the house and live with her aunt. Not wanting to be tied to the broken woman anymore, she signed up on a mission roster, determined to start making her way in the world. Anything to leave this place not worthy enough to even call home anymore.

So she trained. Day and night, and until her blisters had blisters and until she had memorized every nook, cranny and texture of her bow. Around her sixteenth year, she took up skinning; interested in finding a way to be more efficient in her killing blows and to minimize the blood shed. It was a contradictory for her to pick up skinning since she had a weak stomach, but she told herself to suck it up and just do it. While her skills changed, so did her personality. The loving, carefree happy child had all but vanished, and a calculating hunter with a quick tongue and even quicker hands emerged. She did what she had to to survive, and that was that.

Sometime after her twentieth winter, she joined the Kings army as an archer, and just before her twenty third winter, she acquired her own squad to lead on raids. She cherished that squad and they became the family that she lost as a child. In the beginning, there had been five of them in total: a human priest, a gnome rogue, a draenei shaman, a dwarf warrior and herself. Not long after, their group doubled and two years later it increased to twenty five. She had what she had always secretly dreamed of since her father died, she had a big, loving family.

Leading them was no easy feat. Keeping up with twenty five men and women was trying and organizing them sometimes was even worse. She loved them all, but by Elune, they knew how to push her buttons.

Her group quickly became the go-to group if you needed a large scale task done. With this reputation they were allowed to do many things and travel across the world. Currently they were in Northrend waiting for their next orders. Camping in northern Dragonblight was no easy everyday thing though. Tents were clustered together and as close to campfires as they could be without setting themselves on fire. Even the mounts were irritated at the weather. Kaylrielsia though was in her tent huddled over a map marking multiple lines here and there. With a sigh, she backed up and pulled her dark cloak closer to her body. Just waiting for orders in a place like this sent her nerves on over drive. In attempt to heat her body up, she began to rub her arms up and down quickly to see if she could get some friction and get the feeling back in her arms. From the floor, her large feline companion yawned and swatted her with its large lavender tail. She had just reached down to scratch her friend under the chin when her senses screamed at her into alertness. Standing rim road straight, she focused and listened to her surroundings. The crackling of the campfire, the rustle of clothing, the cough and sniffle of a cold friend, no, no, no. She focused harder, and then after a moment of concentration, she heard it. The light footsteps of quickly approaching feet. Undead feet. Quickly she grabbed her bow and arrows and ran out of her tent to alert her group.

"Scourge! Everyone at the ready!" She bellowed out. Everyone was up and preparing themselves with in seconds. Barring her teeth, she turned and faced the direction the feet were coming from. Notching an arrow at the ready, Kaylrielsia fell into her stance, her party falling into place in front of her and around her. Pulling her arrow back so the feathers at the end of it was resting by her mouth, her small pink tongue darted out and licked the wood, a strange habit she had picked up somewhere along the way. A grin spread across her face as her first target came into sight, and with a battle cry, she released and watched with sickening pleasure as her arrow sunk cleanly into the scourges head, instantly killing him. Then all hell broke loose. Her twenty five men and women against fifty or so scourge, and so far, they were winning with no casualties. Somewhere after her tenth killing blow, Kaylrielsia got this tingling feeling of being watched, but not by the scourge they were fighting. _No, by something else. Something much more sinister. Was this attack a diversion of some sort?_

Eyes widening, she yelled out to her second in command, "Brian! Take everyone to the safe area! Forget the scourge and go! GO!" He studied at her for a moment before nodding and grabbing a device out of his armor and quickly pressed a button. The area was consumed in a bright green light and Kaylrielsia took this as her moment to run. Calling her pet over to her, she darted for her tent and grabbed all her important documents and threw them into a fire just outside her tent. After making sure they would be unsalvageable by setting a fire trap she started to run for her mount, the only one left tied up. The large sand colored saber cat looked anxious, but ready to follow her masters every order. Quickly mounting, Kaylrielsia sent her mount into a dead run, running from the scourge and whatever had been watching her.

Twenty minutes of hard running quelled Kaylrielsia's nerves down and tempted her to slow down so she could get a good survey of where they were. Not even before they could stop, they were slammed to the ground and she was dragged from her mount. Cold, well-manicured fingers latched themselves onto her wrist and drug her into the tree line. The cries of her pet tore a feral scream from her throat moments before she grabbed for her dagger and made a cut towards the offending woman's arm. She was released before her blade even made it close, and with that, she bounded to her feet, crouching low, teeth bared at her attacker. Blood froze upon looking at the female before her.

The Banshee Queen.

_Why would she be here, and for me? Certainly even I'm not that important_. Eyes narrowed. _My group though…_

"I applaud you for your quick thinking captain, but now tell me, where did you send them?" The she-witch questioned.

I scoffed, "And why would I tell the likes of you?"

"Because you're really not as stupid as you look, are you?" She retorted quickly.

"Well in that case, I'd rather die before telling you!" I spat back venomously. All I had time to see was her deep red eyes narrowing at me before I was disarmed and her hand was around my throat strangling me.

"That can be arranged."

The snowy world around me went black.

* * *

I was woken up by being dunked in frigid water that by the taste of it had life growing in it, and not the good kind. After blinking rapidly, my vision cleared and revealed that I was in a dark room with two death guards in it, who were holding me, and a shadowed figure on the other side. Their identity was quickly exposed by red glowing eyes. Looking away, I started to study the room. Dirty stone slabs on the floor, and stone walls and ceilings. _How decorative_.

"Now where were we Night Elf?" She asked me. I merely rolled my eyes.

"We were just at the part where I wasn't going to tell you anything."

"Ah, still set on that, are you?" the Banshee Queen asked while walking towards me.

"Yes."

"Well we have our ways in obtaining information."

"I'm sure you do, but if you think I'll degrade myself into telling you anything, you're sorely mistaken, She-Witch." I quickly retorted. I could practically feel my father's disapproving gaze and him murmuring something about my manners. She lowered herself in front of me and smiled menacingly.

_Sorry Papa._


	3. Stutter

**Stutter**

He turned to look at me then. Peering down his half rotten off nose at me, and I stared right back. Those golden globes looked endless and cold, making me eventually look away. I cast my eyes down to the floor of my 'room'. His footsteps softly echoed as he approached me. I tensed involuntarily as he reached down and picked up a lock of my hair. Rubbing it between his bony fingers, he chuckled and whispered something in gutterspeak. I pulled back in an attempt to get as far away from him as possible. My efforts were futile.

He spent the next few moments inspecting me and muttering things to himself, so I took the opportunity to look him over as well. His head was bald accept for a few strangler grey hairs that managed to stay atop his head. His face was, for the most part intact, except his jaw, which half was missing giving me a perfect view of the insides of his mouth. _I definitely could have gone my whole life without seeing that._Next I looked at his robes, which thankfully covered most of his body. They were bland in all respects, white and grey linen that went all the way down to his toes and covered his arms down to his bony wrists. The only colorful thing about his attire was the light yellow sash around his slim waist, and even then it wasn't much. He obviously wasn't of high rank, either that or he didn't care, and why would he if he tended to prisoners for a living. I scoffed at myself and continued observing. His hands were all bone expect for a few pieces of flesh that have managed to hang on, and feet were barely clothed in a few pieces of cloth that were haphazardly sewn together by a mediocre tailor, or by he himself.

My eyes started to droop from no doubt blood loss. Hell, I was surprised I hadn't passed out as of yet. My head bobbed forward and upon seeing this, the priest from what I could guess, started his work. Cold hands pressed themselves to my leg with the long gash running down the center of it. I grit my teeth as I felt him invade my senses none too gently. Minutes passed until he finished with that leg and moved to the next. When the dimly glowing light left his hands, I chanced to look up at him only to find his hands reaching for my face. I jerked back, which wasn't the best idea if the nauseous feeling rising in the back of my throat had anything to say about it. He chuckled to himself and grabbed the sides of my face, placing his pointer fingers on my temples. The invading sense returned, but even stronger than before. Instantly, I threw up my barriers to keep him out of my mind. It was a nifty little trick I had learned from another priest and warlock when I spent my time as an archer in the King's army. The undead priest in front of me seemed baffled then spit out some insult and pushed harder into my mind.

A strangled cry climbed out of my throat. I couldn't handle this, not with in the state I was in. Yes, my wounds had been healed, but the exhaustion was overwhelming, and keeping a persistent enemy out of your mind was draining enough as it is. My head throbbed with the amount of force he was using and beads of sweat broke out on my forehead. I commanded my body forward in an attempt to frighten him, which only worked for a moment before he grit his rotten teeth and continued. I could feel my consciousness slipping from my grasp, making me whimper in distress. Taking this as a good sign, the priest cast a curse on me, making a scream rip from my throat. My insides felt as if they were being torn out of my pores. Tears escaped my dimly glowing eyes as I wailed and pleaded at him to stop. He continued.

My sense of time left me as I tried to hold onto my control on the locks on my mind. The pain was numbing, but not nearly as bad as the exhaustion. I wanted nothing more than to pass out, and I knew I was on the verge of blacking out soon. I vainly shook my head trying to release his grasp on me, but it didn't faze him. I looked up to his face to spit on him when I noticed the fatigue covering it. I was close then. He surely couldn't keep this up, but neither could I. I was on the verge of breaking as it was. Stealing myself, I coaxed myself with encouraging words in an attempt to hold on. Squeezing my eyes shut, I focused all of my remaining energy on blocking him out. What seemed like an eternity was in reality a few minutes before the Priest stumbled backwards and braced himself onto the wall. Hastily, he unlocked the door and left the room, locking it behind him.

I sagged forward, and watched as my tears hit the stone floor. Vision blurring, I cried myself to sleep. Dreams of running through the Ashenvale forest and climbing trees took over my mind. I could almost feel the damp, healthy grass under my feet as I ran towards a glistening lake. I wanted nothing more to feel the cool sweetness of the water on my skin, but upon diving in, I felt nothing. The scenery blackened and I was no longer in the water or the forest for that matter. I was in my old house, peering out the window into the garden where my Papa sat talking to someone of a small stature. He shifted, revealing the person he was conversing with to be me, but of a younger age. I leaned forward and pressed myself against the glass to get a better look. My throat constricted as I saw him laughing with me. Oh, how I missed him and the sound of his voice. A hand softly touched my shoulder and I turned to find my mother standing there with saddened eyes. I turned to her, confused, and she looked between me and the scene outside and started to shake her head before pointing to the door.

The scenery changed again to a boat in the middle of a raging storm. Silent yells could be observed from her vantage point on the deck. She knew this scene quite well, it was her first long boat ride. She had been so afraid of falling off the side; she had stayed under the deck the whole time. She frowned, why was she above the deck then? A strong wave shook the ship, sending her sideways towards the railing. Fear bloomed into her chest as she failed to right herself or grab onto anything. The blackness of the water engulfed her as she fell into its depths. Unlike the earlier scene, she could feel this water. It was biting at her in every direction making her scream and expel bubbles from her mouth only for her to be brought back to reality.

With a gasp, she was brought back to the world of the living, or semi-living, to find herself soaked to the bone and the Priest standing over her.

* * *

The torture he inflicted upon her ranged anywhere from taking a scalpel to her skin and lapping up her blood to breaking her bones agonizingly slow and cutting off appendages to the ever favorite mind invasion. She had all but become practically immune to the curses he sent her way. The pain he made her feel reminded her she was in fact still alive. With no sense of time anymore, she couldn't tell how long she'd been in this infernal room for. Days? Weeks? Months? Years maybe? His forms of torture were starting to become routine, which not only started to bore her but irked the Priest, but one day he got a new idea of how to really break her spirit.

It had started out like a normal session : he came in thirty minutes before and healed anything that needed his attention and left, then returned and locked the door behind him. He approached her slowly and reached for her face, making her think he was going to try the barriers in her mind today. Only instead of the invading feeling, she felt him stroke her cheeks and then down her neck. Eyes snapped open when she felt something press to her neck. Lips. Cold, rotting lips. Panic stirred in her, making her jerk away and stare up at him wide eyed. He just smirked down at her before reaching over and adjusting her shackles. Silently, he cast a curse onto her, making her shake in pain. Then, he began. Hands trailed down over her body; first down her neck to her arms then to her waist only to return up and cup her chest. Testing the weight in each hand, he rolled and palmed them before tearing one of the only barriers she had between her and him. Ragged linen shirt fell to the floor and he continued with his ministrations. She cried out, willing him to stop. She had been touched by a man once, but only once, and it had been 'required' of her. If captured, the horrors an enemy could do to a female captive were endless. One of the most concerning was rape. So, before being allowed onto the field it was 'suggested' that they take care of that problem if they were virgins. Not all women did it, but to go with practicality, Kaylrielsia complied and went to a friend to help her. He was a Night Elf like herself, but more seasoned in the art of warfare. She barely had to say anything for him to understand, and for that she was grateful. He had made her first time pleasurable and wonderful in every sense. That had been when she was much younger, and since then, duty over took her life, making that the only time she ever laid with a man, and now this corpse was molesting her. Tears sprung to her eyes and she cursed him, but this only seemed to spur him on. Next his hands slid down to her torn pants and slowly ripped them off. Her attempts to get him to stop were getting her nowhere, and when he tore her underwear off, a strangled pleading cry erupted from her throat. Tears clouded her vision and all she could make out was him undressing in front of her. She turned her head, refusing to look at him. Squeezing her legs tightly together, she prayed to whatever or whoever was listening that this couldn't be happening. Streams of salty tears trailed down her face as she decided to give into the pain of the curse and let it numb her. It worked, she could barely feel him enter her; barely feel his movements inside her. She cried out as she felt the curse receding and truly became aware what was happening. Vomit rose in her throat as she felt him. His thrusts were sporadic, painful and full of vengeance. Her body shook from her cries.

It felt like an eternity until he left. She had no idea how many times he used her body or how long he'd been in the room. She curled into herself and willed the dream world to overtake her, and it did immediately.

* * *

That form of torture didn't happen again, much to her relief, but the feeling of waking up different and changed started to overwhelm her. It was after she noticed the pallor of her skin changing that she decided to not look herself over. Something was blooming in her gut though. It was a raging need for blood and redemption. A need that plagued her to quench, and to start with the priest. She started to dream of ways to kill him and everyone in this city, including Sylvannas herself. Oh yes, Sylvannas would be her crowning glory.

Kaylrielsia shook those thoughts from her head as she looked down at the priests limp body before her. Memories she knew would now haunt her forever needed to be pushed away for now. Quickly, she maneuvered the dagger to pick the locks of the shackles binding her. With that complete, she pulled the priests cloths off and pulled them on herself to hide her naked form. She rose and turned towards the door and grinned. Dreams were about to come true.

_Ready or not, here I come…_


End file.
